


TLATB Alternate Scenes

by BullySquadess



Series: TLATB Universe [3]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: (we could've had it AALLLLL), F/M, then mari fucked it up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-05-25 19:21:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6207352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BullySquadess/pseuds/BullySquadess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>basically, this is almost what happened BUT DIDN'T</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> FUN FACT I wrote 5 separate version of this chapter before settling on the angst version but hey  
> look at what COULD HAVE HAPPENED if Mari just look a second to think!  
> (ps this is un beta'd and un-revised so its probably super rough sorry)

 

Marinette couldn’t tell you how she managed to get home after “The Sighting”™, but she did, pushing through the doors of the bakery before making her way upstairs. She vaguely registered her own voice calling out to her parents, spinning some gossamer-thin excuse before her trapdoor was closed with a solid thud in the otherwise quiet room.

She was silent.

Marinette was absolutely, positively silent.

She was silent as she unthinkingly made her way up into her loft, silent as she pushed herself down atop her mattress and silent as she ruminated on everything she had just witnessed.

She stayed silent because if she didn’t…

She’d be screaming.

And if today were, in fact, the day she was to finally lose her mind, Mariette wanted to bid it farewell with some dignity. Her brain deserved that much

She needed a plan. She didn’t have a plan.

Her phone chimed. She didn’t answer.

She had to think. She stared at the ceiling instead.

“Are you ok?” Tikki asked softly, the care evident in her tone as she flittered around her sprawled out companion. At the sound of the kwami’s voice, Marinette rolled on to her back, peering up at the red creature as she swallowed down the lump in her throat.

“It’s Adrien,” she whispered hoarsely, staring unblinkingly up at her ceiling, “Adrien is Chat Noir.” Just vocalizing the statement was enough to send another jolt of panicked excitement down her spine, as if speaking the words aloud somehow cemented their blinding accuracy.

The way she said it was not a question, it was not a theory or hypothesis. It was a realization. It was solid truth. “Adrien is Chat Noir.”

Tikki gave a sigh, floating down to rest atop their shared pillow before continuing on in a soothing voice.  “I know this isn’t how you wanted to find out,” the kwami began, sweeping her tiny mitts over Marinette’s brow, “...and I’m sorry you had your choice taken away, but maybe it’s good you finally learned the truth?”

“I was going to tell him…we were going to…” Marinette trailed off, allowing herself a second to wallow in self-pity at the whole situation. Of all the ways she had ever imagined finding out who her partner was, this definitely took the cake for most ridiculous. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It wasn’t supposed to be Adrien.

But like it or not it _was_ him, and it had _been_ him all this whole time. The boy she’d long been chasing after and the young man who finally caught her where one in the same.

Three years Marinette had spent dodging Chat advances, three years spent denying and sidestepping… all so she could faun over his civilian self.

It would have almost been funny if not for sheer insanity of the situation.

“Well I think you’re handling it pretty well,” Tikki said, sugar-coating her words with sickly sweet encouragement, “Honestly, I had always thought you would completely freak out when you discovered Adrien was-“ The kwami’s eyes blew wide with regret as the creature suddenly snapped her jaw shut. Thought not sudden enough, if Marinette’s gasp of recognition was any indication.

And that’s when the screaming started.

“You knew!” The girl accused, sticking a finger in Tikki’s crossed eyed face. “You knew and you didn’t tell me?!?”

“You said you didn’t want to learn Chat’s identity!” the kwami reminded her, throwing two hands forward in a placating gesture.

The only response Marinette could conjure was a drawn out yell, dampened by the pillow she pushed against her face. The muffled sound was a strange one, a scream filled with tension, yes, but much more as well.

Regret?

(She wanted to go back, wanted to un-see his trademark mop-top, un-glimpse his rakish smile, un-know his true identity.)

Check.

Longing?

(She did not, however, want to un-feel his lips against her temples, or un-learn the way his presence made her feel wanted… supported.)

Check.

Frustration?

(Goddamnit she had been so close! So close to feeling comfortable with letting their guises slip and their civilian selves meet. And with one chance sighting, one fluke encounter, the entirety of her grit had fled. Her choice had been taken away.)

Double Check.

Anger?

…

No, Marinette couldn’t find it in herself to be angry… not at Chat anyways. Not at Tikki or Adrien or really anyone for that matter.  Sure she was scared and confused and maybe even a little bit exhilarated… but never angry. And as much as she was still reeling from her unwanted discovery, as much as she wanted to punch something for the sheer sensation of fist to surface contact, Marinette instead felt herself sliding back into that oh-so-familiar mindset of frustration.

The rest of her afternoon was spent first in quiet processing (‘oh, this is happening’) then more loud discussion with her kwami (“Honestly Marinette, I’m not sure how you never saw this coming beforehand…”) and finally with some good old-fashion avoidance. Avoidance of her responsibilities, avoidance of homework, avoidance of friends and boyfriends and (in one special case) avoidance of both in one person.

She missed her afternoon classes, as well as the dinner her mother had tried coaxing her down to eat, opting instead to barricade herself in her bedroom with a metaphorical “no boys allowed” sign taped to her door as she indulged in some sorely needed contemplation. Marinette might have felt guilty over her childish denial of responsibilities if not for the fact there was absolutely no room for additional emotions past the relentless flood of pure, visceral realization that thrummed through her brain to skitter down her body.

 She needed a plan. She didn’t have a plan.

She had to think. She went to bed instead.

 

* * *

 

 

 

**[ Good Morning Lover ;) ]**

 

The buzz of her phone is what woke the girl, drawing her out a dreamless sleep with its insistent notification. She blinked at Chat’s greeting, soaking up the warmth of his affection as she did every time he sent her a wake-up text. Lost in her drowsy haze, Marinette grinned at her screen, momentarily forgetting what had transpired the day before as she reached out to respond on pure force of habit alone.

“Good morni-“

Luckily, her memories caught up with her before she could send out the mindless flirt, fingers screeching to a halt as the girl gulped wide-eyed down at the screen. His message was a now a double-edged sword, inspiring equal parts swooping glee and crashing guilt.

 

**[ Good Morning Lover ;) ]**

 

 _‘How in the world did I manage to trick Adrien Agreste into thinking he loved me?’_ Marinette thought with a groan, rolling over to throw an arm over her eyes. Much to her chagrin, she couldn’t quite stomp down the lingering butterflies of giddiness that took flight at the mere insinuation that her (not-so) forgotten crush’s feelings for her went beyond that of just friends. The sensation festered in the pit of her stomach, heavy and dull.

_‘He loves a lie.’_

Marinette never felt so undeserving of his or Chat’s _(‘So I guess really just his…’)_ affection in her entire life.

It wasn’t fair! Here he was, thinking he was having some fantasy relationship with a poised and beautiful heroine of the night, when in all actuality, he’d really just been making out with his clumsy, disaster of a classmate for the past-

 “FUCKING HELL,” Marinette shrieked, bolting upright as Tikki startled at the sudden movement, “I’VE BEEN MAKING OUT WITH ADRIEN AGRESTE FOR THE PAST TWO MONTHS!”

Correction: She had been doing much _more_ than just making out with Adrien over the past two months, and the sudden recollection sent her in to another tailspin.

“I was wondering when you’d catch up to that,” came a sleepy kwami voice. The girl didn’t hear her.

Marinette sat gasping in her bed, mentally reliving each touch and flirt and tease the two of them had thrown each other’s way since the beginning of their relationship as she tried not to combust from pure embarrassment alone. Somehow, the more physical aspect of their… entanglement had gone over-looked the night before, lost in the background noise of her breakdown. But boy if Marinette didn’t notice it now.

She’d had her tongue down Adrien Agreste’s throat.

She’d ground down on Adrien Agreste’s erection.

And just the other night, she had…

Nope.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.

Marinette buried her head deep into her pillow, letting out a squeak as she willed the memory of her and Chat’s illicit phone sex encounter away in a strenuous feat of denial. The mental picture of Adrien, sweat-slick and lust-consumed as he whispered dirty promises of things to come through his cell was almost enough to break her, and Marinette felt like she may just evaporate into nothing as she desperately forced the idea away.

But this wasn’t something she could just ignore. There had been pictures, there had been words, and eventually… there had been orgasms.

_‘You can’t really go back to being just friends after you make someone cum.’_

And that’s when the real denial kicked in.

Like someone had flipped a switch, the girl went from simply processing her situation to full on trying to disprove it had ever occurred. A million conflictions, a million little dissuasions began churning around her thoughts, each more far-fetched than the last as she desperately tried to reason her realization away.

‘Adrien can’t be Chat, he’s to…’

‘And Chat is…’

‘They both…’

 Her arguments were feeble, their pathetic desperation only making Marinette’s guts tie up into ever-increasing knots. So after five minutes of blinking up at her ceiling, when she could no longer justify trying to disprove the theory (truth) that Adrien Agreste was Chat Noir, Marinette decided the next logical, responsible thing would be to do the opposite. She needed to prove that he was (if only for her own sanity and validation.)

Marinette knew with 96% certainty that Chat and Adrien where one in the same.

She also knew she needed to confront him.

Maybe not right away, certainly not over the phone, and definitely not until she was 107% sure of his identity, but there was just no way she could even begin to keep this to herself. This kind of knowledge wasn’t something you could just hide from your partner/classmate/boyfriend/whatever.

She needed a plan. She had a plan.

Marinette slid from her loft with steadying purpose, gathering up a notebook and a puffball tipped pen before spreading the supplies atop her desk. The amount of sunlight flooding her room hinted at the fact she was most-likely missing her first class of the day, but the girl couldn’t really find it in her to care at that point. She dubbed her new mission “Operation Exposé” and immediately set to work, splitting the page into sections.

The first column Marinette titled “Chat Noir”, adorned with tiny scribbled kittens, hearts and another shape that looked vaguely like a…

Yep, that was a gun. Marinette had drawn a gun.

The second column held the name “Adrien Agreste”, written in flawless script with a steady calligrapher’s hand. Next to it? A torrent of question marks interspersed with hearts and…

More guns. (Marinette’s subconscious was surprisingly adept at drawing firearms.)

_‘Miraculous…’_

For ten solid minutes the girl’s pen flew, then scribbled, then eventually scratched away as she filled the page with every single detail she could recall about each boy, sorting every tidbit she could conjure into one of two columns.

 More than once, Marinette had to pause to mull over which side a certain personality trait should go on and each hesitation seemed to incrementally raise her blood pressure ever higher. _‘Hhmmmm, “Daddy Issues”… now where does this belong?’_

After a frustrating amount of said hesitations, a third section was added, one simply titled “Boyfriend.” Marinette pulled from both sides of the page now, consolidating the eerily similar features of her subjects in question to form a concise list of Adrien and Chat’s shared qualities. Her hand never ceased its writing, her head never ceased its scheming, and mid-morning slid into high noon as the girl continued to craft her plan of attack.

She needed a checklist. She needed checklist of all the little things that would help her irrefutably prove once and for all that Adrien was Chat Noir. She needed to take said checklist to class and ~~interrogate~~ subtly grill a certain blonde friend of hers with until she was in a place where she could say without a doubt in her mind that…

A half hour passed before she was convinced her magnum opus was complete, Marinette giving a satisfied sigh as she drew back to admire her handiwork.

There it was. All the little things linking the two previously very different boys in her life undeniably together. Her eyes traced over the paper, marveling in awe over the sheer volume of her proof as her heart continued to thrum at a dangerous pace. The similarities were staggering, and Marinette was caught between laughing and crying over the fact she hadn’t put it all together sooner.

She did neither of those things.

What she did do was force herself up and out of her room. She showered and combed her hair. She put on a clean set of clothes, she persuaded herself to apply some makeup and she made herself gather up her backpack. She was going to school, goddamnit.

 _‘Just because my life is a mess, doesn’t mean my academic career has to be,’_ Marinette reminded herself, the clock confirming her suspicion that lunch hour was ticking to an end. _‘And I’ll be dead in the ground before I let Chat Noir make me forget that.’_

Marinette liked to think she wasn’t the type of girl to let a boy get in the way of her education (despite what evidence her last 24 hours could provide), so she pushed her way down the steps, out the door, and all the way to the threshold of her first classroom in a bout of righteous pride. After all, today was test day, and somehow Marinette doubted her teacher would accept “I’m a masked superhero who just found out my identically masked superhero boyfriend is in fact the same guy I’ve been pining after for years then eventually got over so I could date his alter ego and also he sits next to me right in your classroom” as a valid excuse to miss her French quiz.

Marinette didn’t spot him in the first hour she spent on campus. She didn’t expect to be disappointed.

‘Adrien Agreste is Chat Noir,’ she thought, closing her locker with a harsh clack.

Alya showed due concern when she finally showed up for their shared period, but Marinette just waved her off, managing to convince her friend that yesterday’s little freak out had been no more than her anxiety talking. It was a half-truth, but a good excuse to boot, so Alya had no trouble believing the little cover-up. For that, Marinette was glad, stringing her face with a falsely conjured smile as the two of them settled in to work on their project.

‘Adrien Agreste is Chat Noir,’ she thought, mentally ticking down the seconds until she would have to face him for the first time. It was 107% or nothing.

In Chem, Marinette decided once and for all that Nino’s propensity to go off onto wild (and often hilarious) tangents was a blessing. The boy was a first-class distracter, and today was no different. Ten minutes in, she actually laughed, feeling the tight bundle of nerves settled in her stomach loosen just a smidge as Nino regaled her with his harrowing tale of slipping in the shower earlier that morning.

‘Adrien Agreste is...’

‘KILL.’

It was when Marinette shakily set foot into her French classroom that everything became devastatingly real.

 Because he was there. Just like he had been every single day for the past two months.

 And while anyone else would assume the boy sitting in Adrien’s spot, wearing Adrien’s clothes, waving Adrien’s daily greeting would, in fact, be Adrien… Marinette knew better.

Because she wasn’t anyone else. She was his girlfriend, his partner.

 And in the moment, it was impossible to see his civilian persona past the now-blindingly obvious presence that was Chat Noir. Adrien’s every mannerism (from his perfect posture to the subtle quirk of his lips, and all the way down to the stupidly charming twinkle in his green eyes) just screamed of Chat Noir, and Marinette experienced a bit of an “ah-ha!” moment as she regarded him for what felt like the first time.

She almost felt… stupid?

She also felt-

‘ _KILL’_ her mind repeated.

 _‘Too many witnesses’_ her reason shot back.

_‘Kill…later?’_

 Marinette shushed them both, reminding herself there were better solutions to this mess than outright murder as she made her way to her regular seat. In her regular classroom. Next to her regular…

 “Hey,” Adrien said, turning to give her a kind smile that all but extinguished Marinette’s homicidal tendencies.

She was putty. She was slime. She was near-incoherent.

It was her boyfriend’s voice, coming from her classmate’s mouth… or perhaps the opposite, she couldn’t even tell you at this point. It was the lingering butterflies of her buried Adrien crush mixed with the bursting heat of Chat’s endearment. It was dangerous. Deadly, even.

It seemed as though he had killed her first… and it just wasn’t fair.

 _‘Plan, you have a plan!’_ Marinette screamed in her mind, willing herself not to buckle under his pleasant gaze as she plopped into her seat. Needless to say, her plot did not include utterly falling to pieces the first time Chat/Adrien/Whoever so much as spoke to her… and yet. The girl quickly gathered herself up to return his greeting.

“Hi-“

_‘Adrien? Chat?? Fuck! What am I supposed to call him?’_

“-BUDDY.” Marinette winced, giving him a strained smile before allowing her eyes to dart away. _‘Smooth, definitely not suspicious at all,’_ she chided herself, digging through her back pack in an attempt to avoid Adrien’s searching gaze.

“Uh…ok,” he began, his bemused nod sending another pang against her chest at the gesture’s familiarity (97% certain), “It’s nice to have you back… PAL.” 

Well, she could check “snarky” off her list. Marinette had to resist the urge to give him a very Ladybug-like eye roll, and the fact his mere presence seemed to draw the heroine out of her was its own little checkmark on her confirmation checklist. (98%) This was almost too easy.

“So, d-did I miss anything yesterday?” Marinette asked casually, cursing the return of her stutter as she focused her attention back towards the boy beside her. God, he looked so much like…

“Not really,” Adrien said, missing the way his classmate seized up as he absently fiddled with the ring encasing his fourth finger (98%). “…just review mostly. So are you feeling better? Alya mentioned something about you freaking out yesterday…” Marinette let loose a frantic laugh.

“Ahhhh…yeah, ugh, you know me. I just…” she coughed, gripping the edge of her desk and grasping for some sort of purchase on the conversation. “I just f-freak out some times for no reason!”

_‘Or when I realize we’ve been low-key jumping each for the past few weeks but whatever…’_

“Well I’m glad to have you back,” Adrien responded with another disarming smile, “I don’t think I could get through this quiz without my study-buddy by my side.”

_‘Study-buddy zoned again…’_

“Besides, you’re the only one who makes this class bearable for me,” the boy continued, taking his paper from the teacher as the class settled in for their exam. Meanwhile, Marinette was caught between feeling pleased at the fact Adrien enjoyed her company and pissed that Chat had insinuated her presence was merely “bearable.” It was a strange balance of emotions, one that left her a bit unhinged as she focused on not snapping her pencil in two.

_‘This is going to be a long period…’_

Pushing her list, his smile, and their shared history to the back of her thoughts, Marinette buckled down for what ended up being her shoddiest attempt at a grammar quiz to date. _‘So much for not letting boys get in the way of my education,’_ she thought, handing in her paper a half hour later with a pout of aggravation.

Marinette decided to funnel that righteous fury towards what she had originally set out to do today. The plan was there for a reason, and she be damned it something as minute as a failed quiz was going to throw her off. Besides, there was still about a dozen more points on her list that she needed to cross off before she could even begin to convince herself to confront Chat.

And she knew just who could help her.

 “So Adrien,” Marinette piqued, glad for the excess of conversation that now filled the room as she wiggled around in conflicted determination. “How was your weekend?” The blonde turned at her question, tasking a second to absorb her inquiry before….

He wasn’t quick enough to suppress his tiny smirk (99%) before Marinette’s eyes latched on to its telling presence.

“Good,” Adrien said with an air of causality that contrasted his far-away look, “Actually, great. I had a great weekend.”

100%

“G-glad to hear it,” Marinette managed, trying to tame her inconvenient blush at the thought of just what he found so “great” about his weekend. If his matching redness (just a bit behind the ears) was any indication, then her suspicious were most likely well-founded, and the further confirmation only prompted her heart to beat impossibly faster.

 

Marinette had started her day with 96% certainty that Adrien was Chat Noir.

As of now, she was now at 100%.

The confrontation would happen at 107%, she had four minutes left in this period and patrol was scheduled for tomorrow night.

“Operation Exposé” was in full swing.

 

“So quick question,” she blurted, shaking Adrien from the thoughts she could only guess too well, “What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue,” he said without hesitation (101%), leaning back in his chair and stretching (102%) with a pop of his spine, “What’s yours?”

“All,” Marinette murmured, mentally ticking off two more marks. _‘Blue. Of course his favorite color is blue.’_

“All…?” Adrien said with a quirk of his eyebrow (103%), “So you mean like a rainbow?”

“I guess so…”the girl responded distractedly. Her brain was swimming, trying it’s best to shuffle around the intermingling thoughts of Chat vs Adrien as both personalities collided within her head. It was all too much too fast, the past 24 hours pressing against her body with a stifling weightiness that did nothing to relieve the painful thump of her heartbeat.

 Marinette was still a million miles away when the boy beside her spoke up again, but not too far gone to miss his uttered words.

“Well then, I guess that’s just up to… hue,” Adrien said, spreading his hands out before him as if waiting for the applause. 

…

**_‘Kill.’_ **

Marinette was out of the door in record time, sweeping her murderous thoughts up with her as she focused on not fainting before she reached the hall.

104%

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate ending to Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when u sin mom come home and make hte orgasm ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
> (super mega un-beta/ un-edited please dont point out mistakes I KNOW)

(when he still in costume)

Knowing only that he needed to ease some pressure in order to avoid another early finish, Adrien lifted Ladybug by the hips, shifting her slightly to the side and…

“Wha-“

Her objection cut off with a keen as his leg parted hers, and Adrien’s eyes flew open at the sound. He gawked down to where his knee disappeared between her spotted thigh, almost losing it completely once he realized the heat rolling from that area wasn’t merely as a result of friction. The un-abashed pleasure painted over Ladybug’s face (the girl panting and flushed as she clamped around his thigh) was the stuff of wet dreams, and Adrien suddenly had trouble breathing.

He gave an experimental wiggle of his knee.

“Ha-aah!” Ladybug’s spine snapped straight at the motion, mouth emitting a harsh gasp as her eyes found his. They glimmered in the dim moonlight, nearly blackened with lust, and it was a sucker punch to the gut.

 “D-do you-” Adrien cleared his throat, voice somehow both gravelly and pitched in desire. “Does that… feel good?”

He knew the answer. Her desire was evident by the way she nearly quivered atop him, but his girlfriend’s whispered “yes” still shot lighting through his veins. She positively squirmed at the second jerk of his knee, nearly sobbed at the third, and Adrien could only watch, utterly entranced, as Ladybug seemed to seem to fall apart before him.

 “I told you before…” Ladybug said, ducking down to nibble his earlobe as she continued to undulate against him, “…I-I like to be on top.”

That last bit came as a huff of hot breath to the side of his neck, conjuring memories of her sweet voice crying out for release and Adrien had to hold in a whine at the recollection. His hands found and gripped the side of her hips, roughly dragging them along the length of his leg.

Ladybug rewarded him with another mind-melting moan, rolling with his motions as she groped at his backside. Her hips tilted back, putting the brunt of their combined friction toward the area that made her shudder with each pass and gasp at each jerk, and Adrien made sure to hit the explosive spot each time she passed the cap of his knee.

 “You are… s-so good,” he stuttered out between puffs of air, laying sloppy kisses along the edge of her lips that she just as easily returned. Ladybug replied with something that might have been words, but either her mouth or his ears weren’t co-operating, and Adrien could only nod as he buried his panting face into the crook of her neck.

She was getting desperate, close. Her moans (as well as his) were becoming louder, deeper, and lewder by the second. Together they filled the space with an unabashed soundtrack of pure sex, one Adrien knew would be playing on repeat in his dreams for at least the next week solid (along with image of Ladybug in this very same position, with significantly less clothing.)

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay bye have fun,” said Adrien, giving a wave for good measure. _‘Leave, leave, leave, leave-’_

Finally, Plagg seemed to yield, giving one last roll of his eyes before his devious gaze alit on Ladybug. “Do me a favor,” he said, sitting on the sill and flashing a complicated grin, “tell Tikki I want to go double or nothing on the bet.”

He zipped away.

 

* * *

 

 

Plagg was already half gone by the time Marinette had comprehended his words.

“Wait!” she called, shooting up into a sitting position and almost head-butting Adrien in the process, “What bet?!” Her only answer was a retreating snicker, dying off as the kwami left them to their solitude. “Plagg! Plagg- what bet?!”

Silence.

Marinette grumbled, crossing her arms in a pout. _‘First my parents, now the kwamis. Is there anyone out there not making wagers on my life???’_

She jumped when a voice intruded on her inner stewings.

“You wouldn’t happen to know how to skin a cat would you?” Adrien asked, leaning back on his haunches as two fingers pinched the bridge of his nose.

Two ungloved fingers…

Pinching the bridge of his un-masked nose… 

 _‘Why the fuck does he have to be so disgustingly handsome?’_  she thought almost desperately.

Marinette took in a calming inhalation, reminding herself there was no need to blush at the sight of her own goddamn boyfriend- even if he _was_ sporting a fairly-obvious semi as he knelt down in front of her. She’d buried the version of herself who got tongue-tied around Adrien Agreste months ago, had smacked the girl over the head with a shovel and had even worn a spicy little black number to her funeral.

The ceremony had been lovely, the tears had flowed, but that Marinette was dead and gone.

And this Marinette was not about to let the lingering ghost of some middle school daydream get in the way of her high school reality. Adrien was here, now. He wanted Ladybug… and she was the closest thing he was bound to get.

“Is that a crack about being Chinese?” Marinette asked, forcing down her lingering inhibition for an attempt at humor.

Jokes were good. Jokes were safe.

“It wasn’t supposed to be,” Adrien said, tilting his head in consideration, “but it’s almost funnier that way, huh?”

“Hilarious,” she said, earning herself a Cheshire grin. The expression was unbelievably steadying, luring her tongue from where it cowered in the back of her mouth.  “So… _why_ did you drop your transformation?”

Adrien held up a pair of fingers. “Two reasons.”

“Well? Lay it on me." The implication of her words were only half accidental, and her double meaning did not go unnoticed.

“How forward of you, my lady,” Adrien teased, inching forward on his knees with a look of raw intent.

The nickname was strange rolling off her classmate’s tongue, but it stirred something in Marinette none-the-less. She felt her heart flutter at his distracting approach, unconsciously parting her legs father as Adrien slid up between them.

“You have nine minutes to tell me…” Marinette whispered, letting his desirous gaze fuel her boldness, “Eight if you want to leave time for a bit of fun.” Adrien’s eyes widened just a smidge, darting first to the lips she definitely wasn’t biting on purpose and then to the chest she definitely wasn’t sticking out for emphasis.

“I wanted you to use my name… my real name.”

“Oh.”

“Actually, I wanted you to moan it,” Adrien tacked on helpfully, “Like you did that night over the phone. I-if that’s alright with you, that is.”

Great, now she was remembering the phone sex.

Marinette willed the memory of his husky voice panting in her ear away before the thumping in her chest grew deadly, and after two deep breaths she was golden again. _‘Back in control.’_

“You could have just asked me,” Marinette reminded him, leaning forwards to let one finger trace down Adrien’s exposed neck. “We did say we needed to talk more… did we not?” The skin beneath her digit jumped as the boy gave a gulp, green eyes darkening as she dipped her fingers below the v of his neckline.  

“We did… did we- we d-decide that. We did.” Adrien wrangled with his tongue, trying and failing to craft a coherent response, and Marinette decided right then and there that she liked it when her boyfriend stuttered around her.

“So tell me…” she continued to coax, emboldened by his uncharacteristic loss for words as she drew him ever closer, “…what do you want?”

At her question Adrien finally seemed to regain control of his motor functions, shaking his head before crawling forward until she had no choice but to recline beneath him.

“I want to make you moan again,” he breathed, hands creeping their way up the tops of her thighs before burrowing softy into her hips. The timbre with which he spoke was somewhere between a mewl and a growl, animalistic in a way she couldn’t quite place, and the desire behind it excited the girl to no end.

Their proximity was daunting, dizzying…distracting.

“How bold,” Marinette began with what she hoped was a come-hither look. She swallowed her lingering trepidations, angling her head up to speak low against the lips perched above her own. “Why don’t you show me how bold you can be?”

He seemed to take the challenge to heart, as evidenced by the way he hiked her leg up over one hip. “Of course my Lady…” Again, that title spoken in Adrien’s voice elicited a warm jolt low in Marinette’s abdomen. “But first I need to know what it is _you_ want.”

He sounded desperate, wrecked, and Adrien’s genuine eagerness to please her was at once endearing and arousing.

“I want you,” Marinette hear herself say, unable to tear her eyes from the feline intensity written across his face. “I want you to _make me_ moan…” Her hips jerked upwards only somewhat intentionally. “…and I want you to do it by any means necessary.”

He was on her in an instant.

Adrien rocked forward to initiate a swelteringly desperate kiss. Their breath met in the same moment their chests did, air whooshing from the teens’ lungs as he pinned her to the ground. The hand not supporting his weight went to cup the back of her head- taking away any impact Marinette might have felt as she was flattened beneath him and quickly dislodging to travel towards decidedly naughtier place.

The couple resumed their prior position, mouths never ceasing as one of her heels dug sharply into his tailbone. Adrien yielded to the non-verbal command, letting his hip sink down into hers and-

 _‘Oh_ _that is definitely not a semi anymore,”_ Marinette thought, eyes snapping open as a tell-tale bulge pressed against her inner thigh, _‘That is a 100% confirmed erection right there, boy howdy. The most precious Agreste asset wrapped in the highest quality designer denim.’_

The girl always had a thing for couture.

“Bold enough?” Adrien asked, practically panting the words in his fervor to get them out.

“Could be b-bolder,” Marinette huffed in answer.

Adrien’s retaliation was a firm caress against her right breast, and Marinette melted to the pet. She was absolute putty in his hands, bending and forming alongside his careful touch as she tangled her grip in his hair.

This was far from the first time they’d gotten this heated- after nearly two and a half months ( _‘Holy shit, it’s been two and a half months…’_ ) of their realationship, make-outs like this were practically a weekly occurrence- but this particular embrace seemed so incredibly _more._

It could have been the fact they had come so close to breaking, those lingering worries and desperations drawing the two teens stiflingly close to each other as if fearful the other may suddenly disappear. It could have been the simple newness of Adrien’s appearance, ungloved hands free to roam and un-masked face still jolting Marinette every time her eyes wandered back to his.

Hell, it might have just been the alignment of the stars or the time of year or any number of other smaller, cosmic happenstances that might have brought them to each other on this particular night. But, regardless the reason, there was something much larger at work. Something emotional and desperate- something that made it impossible for the two to part for any stretch of time longer than a second.

The way Adrien continued to lay kiss after loving kiss against her eager lips only made Marinette want _more_ …

Luckily, she knew just how to get it.

Her first moan was soft, vibrating across their joined mouths to echo in the empty loft, and the sound of it caused Adrien’s fingers to dig in to the jiggling flesh beneath his hands. He pulled back, eagerly licking his lips as he glanced down at her with an expectant quirk of his brow.

_‘Patience boy…’_

Marinette wanted to smirk in triumph at the sight of one Adrien Agreste looking so utterly entranced by her actions, but a smirk was the wrong expression for what she was trying to garner. So instead of playing smug, the girl instead let her mouth pop into a soft o, feeding off her own immense pleasure and canting her hips upwards. 

Her second moan was almost drowned out by his.

“We don’t have long,” Marinette said between ragged breaths, “You g-gunna give me what I want?”

“Absolutely,” he choked, taking the hint to begin grinding into the juncture of her spread legs.

Marinette whimpered at the new pressure, feeling his name bubble up from her throat before being caught against her teeth. _‘Not yet…not yet…’_ This needed to last.

She met his tempo with a crude excitement, and matched his pace with her own small, stuttering thrusts. Her hands left his silky stands to explore all the expanses rendered bare by his clothing, desperate to trace every newly exposed inch he had so graciously laid before her. They slid up Adrien’s forearms, they gripped the side of his neck, they skated down the thin cotton of his chest and then-

A sharp moan was torn from her throat as gentle fingers pinched at the peaks of her breasts.

“Okay?” Adrien whispered, the kisses he bestowed along her neck doing little to distract Marinette from the way her nipples tightened against the restrictive material of her suit.

“It…” she tapered off with a hiss, face now thoroughly flushed and body reacting to the myriad of new sensations. He was never exactly one to take charge when it came to being physical, mostly content with letting her lead the way, but on the rare occasion he _did_ take the initiative to move without her prompting…

 _God,_ was it good.

Her next moan was even sharper, as was his second pinch, and the girl was _gone._

Marinette wondered through her bleary haze how he’d even managed to find that particular spot, knowing for a fact her costume had its own sort of modesty panels across the chest that usually concealed those two sensitive buds from sight. Truth be told, she probably couldn’t locate her _own_ nipples while she was Ladybug, yet Adrien had somehow found them rather quickly.

The boy had talents, she’d give him that.

Oh, and the hands of pianist as well, as evidenced by the sheer dexterity with which he continued to tease against her.

“Please, my Lady,” Adrien exhaled into the crook of her neck, hand and hips still working in tandem to utterly wreck the girl writhing beneath him, “Please tell me what I have to do to make you say it. Wha-ahh- whatever you want, it’s yours.”

Marinette’s face contorted in pleasure, fingers digging into his hipbones as she willed him impossibly closer. “Y-you…” she stuttered out, back arching off the splintering wood beneath them and ankles hooking behind his waist. “I want you… please.”

“Who?” Adrien coaxed, rutting and petting and kissing every part of her he could reach. “Who do you want?”

He gave her nipple another loving squeeze, and Marinette found herself giving in to his wants as if they were her own. Perhaps they were.

Her fifth moan held what he’d been so desperately hoping for.

“Ah- _Adrien_!” she exalted, bucking against his hardness for emphasis as the boy quaked and groaned atop her.

At the sound of her cry, the hand servicing her chest doubled in it ferocity, weighing and pinching Marinette’s breast in a way that drew all manner of crude exclamations from the girl. Likewise, Adrien’s hips were also spurred into further action, crashing against her own with friction that (left un-checked) would most definitely prove deadly.

Or at the very least devastating.

 “Again,” he pleaded, meeting her lust-fogged eyes with his own for a mere second before diving down to seal his lips around the sweet spot near her jaw.

“Adrien, G-god yes… _Ahh_ -Adrien…“ Marinette heard his name pour from her throat in an almost unceasing blubber, but she certainly wasn’t going to try and stop it. Not when it inspired this kind of deliciously carnal treatment from the object of her affection.

He was better than she dreamed, better than she remembered, all fire and fury tempered with so much care and want it was almost a little overwhelming to her charged up senses. That vivacity, paired with the unceasing barrage of sensations (dull nails digging into her suited chest… hot mouth pressed against her throat… dragging hips that just happened to snag on an especially sensitive part of her anatomy) wound Marinette impossibly tighter.

Her next repetition of his name was something akin to a scream.

And Adrien _snapped._

Blue eyes popped open just as green screwed shut, the boy biting down on her neck with enough force to mottle but just shy of breaking the skin. He hunched over -hips jerking once, then twice, then stilling altogether as his torso quivered against her own- and Adrien was so very obvious in his climax that Marinette knew in an instant what the unspoken second reason he’d had for dropping his transformation was.

She’d heard him cum before, and she knew that this certainly wouldn’t be the first time her actions had inspired an orgasm from the boy. But actually feeling it, feeling _him_ shuddering and bucking against her?

It was incredibly satisfying; in a way she couldn’t quite put into words.

Because this was Adrien- and also Chat. Because _she_ was the reason for his undoing. Not some carefully staged picture, not whatever wildly idealized fantasies he’d created about Ladybug.

Her.

Marinette.

 _She’d_ gotten him off. _She’d_ gotten him off without removing a single article of clothing. _She’d_ gotten him off in the middle of a dirty abandoned building- with just a few sultry sounds and a couple jerks of her hips.

 _She_ did.

And as she felt him come down from that high, Marinette couldn’t help but feel just the teensiest bit smug. _‘Childhood crush, my ass…’_

He broke the silence first.

“Ummm…” Adrien murmured into the crook of her neck, lower body sinking down to rest against her own.

Marinette couldn’t have said it better herself.

She held in a nervous giggle as Adrien pulled back to survey her, the boy giving a lop-sided grin before bending down to steal a kiss. It was short, more as a means of helping to ease them down than anything, yet the pressure of him against her over sensitized lips was still one that left Marinette squirming in pleasure.

“Y-yeah um,” she repeated once they’d separated, grasping at her words for the proper thing to say in this situation. Having been brought so close to her own un-doing, Marinette’s thoughts were slow to come. But as her body slowly edged from the precipice, arousal sliding into the periphery of her focus yet still festering low in her stomach, the girl’s mind cleared enough to continue. “You… you had two minutes to spare?”

“New world record,” Adrien mumbled, his face still an endearing shade of deep pink as he slowly extracted himself from her grasp. Leaning back to kneel on the balls of his feet, Marinette followed him until she was propped up on her elbows. “You didn’t, did you?” he asked with a wince, as if he already knew the answer.

“I didn’t…?” Adrien made a hand motion she couldn’t even _begin_ to describe, but the somewhat vulgar gesture did illustrate his question’s meaning.

Marinette flushed, teeth gnawing against her already raw lips as she shook her head. “No,” she admitted, watching as he deflated a bit, “but I-I was close!”

“You...” Her confession drew his eye to the way her thighs pressed together in an attempt to ease the ache found between them, and Adrien swallowed hard, observing her body quiver beneath him in its tightly wound state. “I can help you,” he said, the words falling from his lips in a low plea and fingers toying against her knees in question, “I can make you feel good too.”

Needless to say, it was a tempting offer, and almost instantly Marinette’s familiar little shoulder devil made a reappearance, spouting all the usual lines about “giving in”  and “letting it happen”. But the teen found the strength (even amidst her cloud of lust) to dismiss the demon, instead pulling herself into a sitting position with a long groan.

Somebody had to be the adult here.

“A-as much as I’d like that…I’ve got to agree with Plagg. Finishing in the suit seems to be in poor taste.” She wanted him. God, she wanted him. She wanted Adrien to trail his finger between her legs and…

But her deference for Tikki (and perhaps a bit of her own lingering shyness) held her back.

Adrien seemed to understand, hands retreating to more respectful places as he gave a soft “okay.” He scooted away from her then, rocking up onto his feet as he pulled her up alongside him.

“Don’t feel bad,” Marinette began, forcing down a somewhat nervous chuckle at what she was about to do, “You’ve given me more than enough inspiration…” A single finger hiked up the hem of his shirt, just far enough to peek at the toned abdominals that lie beneath before letting the material drop back down. “…to speed thing along when I get home.”

She did it, she said it. It was out there. She’d just ogled Adrien then insinuated she was going to masturbate to him later. _‘Oh God, oh fuck what did I just do?’_ Marinette thought, trying her best to keep her inner turmoil from showing on the coy mask she wore beneath her spotted one.

Adrien tilted his head, the expression blossoming across his face so incredibly Chat-like that it almost seemed erroneous on the supermodel’s boy-next-door features.  “You sure you can handle it?” he questioned as he leaned down to capture her gaze. “Because I’d be more than happy to help.”

“I… what are you suggesting?” Marinette inquired with a squeak.

“Go home,” he said, hands twinging around her waist to draw her closer. “Go put on the panties I got you, then… then let me know when you’re in bed. Can you do that for me?” By the time he’d reached the end of his appeal, Adrien’s voice had taken on that gravely quality that always turned her brain to sludge and…oh, she was a goner.

Marinette gulped, face flush and body still pulsing from their earlier actions as the words stirred a delicious sense of anticipation in her chest. Finding her ability to communicate had momentarily fled due to the sheer impact of his request, she instead nodded, and the affirmation only seemed to increase the intensity of Adrien’s green gaze.

“Good,” he praised, granting Marinette a lengthy parting kiss that left her a bit breathless, “This time _I’m_ ready to play.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOPS IT WAS TOO SIN


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idk, just some stuff i cut from chapter 36 for one reason or another

“You okay?” she asked minutes later, smoothing his hair back from his forehead.

It had taken a fair amount of time and kisses before Adrien felt he’d adequately made his point, but eventually he’d released Ladybug, starry-eyed and swooning from their lip lock. ‘She’s never more beautiful,’ he thought sluggishly, ‘then when she’s been kissed senseless.’

(As if he were in any better shape.)

“I’m more than okay,” Adrien sighed, giving a dopey, love-struck smile as he leaned into her touch, “I’m in love.” Ladybug giggled.

“Really now?” she said, “Which lucky soul managed to snag the heart of cover boy Adrien Agreste?”

“I think you know who…” Adrien replied as he wiggled in close.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I mentioned my friend Nino, right? Mister tall, dark, and handsome? With the soulful eyes and the mysterious past?”

“You’re an ass,” Ladybug said, pointer finger prodding his nose. Though her words might have been biting in a different context, the honey-sweet voice with which she spoke them drained all traces of malice from the phrase, turning it into its own kind of love declaration, and Adrien had to take great care in not latching irrevocably onto her again.

“Nope, but you were close though! See my ass is actually-“ he slid one arm out from under her, guiding her hand to cup his behind. “-right here. You can tell because it’s much cuter than my face.” Ladybug’s laughter increased in volume, fingers coyly massaging the flannel covered flesh beneath them.

“Now I don’t know about that,” she countered, chewing her lip, “it is one fine face...”

 

* * *

 

 

“Tell you what,” Adrien said, heaving himself to the side and rolling so that Ladybug was now on top of him. She propped her chin up on his chest, hands folded beneath them, and he was glad to note the lingering traces of her guilty expression abated at the kiss he pecked to the tip of her nose. “I’ll accept your entirely unnecessary apology if you do me a favor.”

Ladybug tilted her head, curious. “You do remember my suit doesn’t come off?”

 _Ha_.

 As if he were capable of forgetting.

“Not that kind of favor,” Adrien tutted, another sliver of his aforementioned joy twisting into something a bit more desirous at her words’ insinuation. _‘Down boy.’_ “I want to hear about the exact moment you fell in love with me. In excruciating detail.”

Ladybug gave a weak chuckle, lifting a brow as if to gauge how serious he was being.

Adrien simply smiled in wait.

“How much detail is considered excruciating?” she sighed, indulging him.

“I’m talking University level. State your thesis, support your stance, and cite at least fifteen-no, _twenty_ sources.”

“MLA or APA format?”

“What are we, children? APA. Double spaced, Times New Roman font, due immediately.”

“Nerd,” Ladybug mumbled, choking out a laugh as his fingers ghosted up her sides in warning. “Alright, alright! Um… well… I didn’t exactly fall in love with you all at once, so this will probably be more like a timeline…”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Adrien murmured, hands resting at the small of her back and head burrowing into the pillow beneath him. Likewise, Ladybug made herself equally as comfortable, wiggling until they both melted into each other.

“I fell in love with your curiosity first,” she began, gorgeous blue eyes traveling somewhere he wished he could follow, “Which is ironic considering I’d always found it to be one of your more…”

“Annoying?” Adrien supplied when it seemed her brain couldn’t grasp the word. “Infuriating? Un-befitting of a superhero?”

“I was going to say bothersome but that works too.” Her expression became thoughtful.  “It annoyed me for the longest time, your curiosity, but one day it just dawned on me that you weren’t trying to pry. You weren’t trying to unmask me, you genuinely wanted to know more about me as a person. You cared, and that made me want to give you answers.” Ladybug paused, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth before releasing it once more. “I… I think that was when I first started loving you.”

“How long ago?” Adrien asked gently, voice threaded with awe.

Ladybug visibly thought back. “Seven… maybe eight months ago? Maybe more. I-I’m not sure.” She looked like she wanted to apologize, her face turning a delicate shade of pink, but Adrien silenced her with a smile and spurred her with a nod.

 _‘Go ahead,’_ his expression said, _‘Please don’t stop.’_

 “Next, I think it was your companionship that I fell in love with. Or…that is… next I _realized_ I loved your companionship. When I no longer had it every day.”

“Last summer?”

“Last summer,” she confirmed, finger plucking at the neckline of his shirt. “I knew when you said you’d be leaving for three months that I would miss you, I just didn’t realize how much. I thought it’d be like missing a friend or a co-worker, but it ended up being alot worse. The whole time you were gone I didn’t feel like doing things or going places. I had to stop taking patrols because they weren’t the same-”

“I’m never going away for that long again,” Adrien couldn’t help but interject, gut aching as he recalled his own feelings of absence during their months apart.

At the time, he’d taken a sort of bittersweet solace in the fact that Ladybug surely didn’t miss him as much as he was missing her, both relieved and disheartened by the notion she was probably getting along just fine without him, but hearing her admit she’d been just as lost…

Adrien unconsciously drew her closer.

“You know,” Ladybug began, with a steadying breath that morphed into an almost-laugh, “looking back it’s a little funny how moody I was while you were gone.”

“How so, my Lady?”

“Well, I kept wondering why I was missing you so much. I would literally lay down on the floor and mope because I couldn’t figure out why the fuck I was feeling the way I was.”

“You liiiiked me,” Adrien teased, earning himself an exceptional peek at her tongue. “So that’s it then? You fell for me because you missed me?”

“Oh no, I’m not nearly finished,” Ladybug said with a now genuine laugh. “It still took me a while to fall in love with the rest of you. Do you still want to hear or…?”

Adrien nodded fiercely, settling back with the look of a devoted pupil on the first day of school. “Please, don’t let me stop you from talking about how much you love me.”

 

* * *

 

 

Upon reaching her neck, he spotted a slight discoloration. Their earlier couch escapades came roaring back in stunning clarity, and he winced at the remembrance of just have obliviously mouthy he’d gotten.

“Sorry,” he said, elaborating at her hum of confusion, “For the hickey I mean.” Ladybug waved off his apology.

“I don’t mind hickeys…”

Adrien shivered, stomach flipping at her devilish smile. _‘Note to self, love bites are a yes.’_

“…so long as they’re left by you, that is.”

He paused, mouth poised over his previous mark and breath fanning out along her throat. Something about her words… the way she said them… Adrien trembled slightly with the strain of keeping himself propped up, but managed to remain elevated as a spoke out mildly.

“No one else?” The skin above her collar broke out into gooseflesh, pulse line jumping as she swallowed.

“Only you…” Ladybug whispered, looking far too inviting for his sanity to bear. At her fingers’ firm insistence, the last tendrils of his reservation snapped, and Adrien groaned as he re-connected with her skin.

Latching on to an unmarred patch just to the right of his last little gift, he began with an open-mouth kiss that quickly turned carnal. With Ladybug’s consent tucked into his back pocket (metaphorically, considering he was still in sleep pants) Adrien wasted no time nipping and sucking the delicate surface of her flesh, alternately teasing and soothing in an effort to erect his masterpiece.

If his Lady wanted a hickey, then by God he’d give her a hickey. One worthy of the girl famous for her spots.

He’d make it bigger. He’d make it brighter.

…And that stupidly possessive part of him would guarantee it was plainly visible. Just in case there happened to be a classmate or neighbor curious as to whether the girl with the stunning blue eyes and dazzling smile was single or not. 

She wasn’t.

 

* * *

 

 

Sometime between the day she’d met him and now, Adrien’s face had replaced her textbook example of what one should seek for their happily ever after. Now when she came across the phrase “handsome prince” or “dashing knight”, she could only ever picture blonde hair, green eyes, and the occasional flash of black leather; Could only hear his voice cracking puns or whispering love or spouting whatever ridiculous nickname he’d decided to use for her that day.

Bugaboo. My Lady.

_Princess._

That one had to be her favorite, for a number of reasons.

Not only did it match so perfectly well with Adrien’s title as un-disputed prince of her heart, it was also the first name he’d ever given her. As in her-her.

As in Marinette.

It was nearly impossible to believe but true all the same. At fifteen years old, Adrien Agreste had bounded up to her doorstep, dipped into a low bow, and branded her (the stuttering classmate he hardly knew) as a Princess. At first she’d found it to be a bit overplayed- just that flirtatious alley cat Chat Noir putting on airs for whatever living thing crossed his path- but as time wore on, Marinette grew to love her crown.

Because Adrien had, and always would be, a romantic at heart. He was a dreamer, and the fact he’d chosen her to star as the love interest in his fairytale (just as she’d written him into hers some three years ago) was enough to make Marinette want to bury her head in his pillow and squeal.

 

* * *

 

 

“Alright Princess. You’ve earned your strip tease.”

_‘Damn right I- wait… what?’_

 Adrien slid off the side of the bed, standing with hands on hips, and Marinette felt her face (Drain? Fill? She couldn’t tell you.) with color at the realization he wasn’t simply going to shove his pants down and let that be that.

 No. He was going to put on a show.

 “Y-you don’t,” she stammered, mouth running dry as she watched his fingers toy with his drawstring, “I-I didn’t m-mean for you to-“

 “Here I am!” Adrien caterwauled, tossing his hair in such a way that was totally ridiculous and did NOT at all turn her on one bit. Nope. No siree. Not this cool cucumber. “The suave, tragically sexy Chat Noir! Forced to dance for my Lady’s pleasure!”

 “I did not-“

 Marinette cut off with a squeak as Adrien managed to something magical with his torso, pivoting so as to show off enticing cuts of lean muscle that she hadn’t be able to spot before. Surely model training didn’t include instructions on how to body roll like that… right?

 “Oh _when_ will her lecherous appetite be sated?” Adrien simpered, hooding his eyes and dipping his thumb beneath his elastic waistband before slapping it against his skin.

 “D-don’t be-“

 Transformed as she was, Marinette’s super-human fingers nearly tore through his covers as she clawed the bedspread. Her pulse hammered, throat bobbing and thighs rubbing together at the sight of Adrien thrusting his hips forward in another cliché move that was _really not supposed to be turning her on as much as it was!_

 “So tell me…” Another squeeze of her thighs. Another hitch of her breath. “… which side of me do you want to see first? Front or back?”

 What left Marinette’s mouth wasn’t something you could find in the French dictionary.

Or _any_ dictionary, for that matter.

 “What was that? You’ll have to speak up,” Adrien teased, eyes catty, smile wolf-ish and body the whole damn zoo.

 (You know, if the animal kingdom was a slut.)

 Apparently “Fuck” wasn’t an acceptable answer either.

 Seeming to realize he wasn’t liable to get a coherent answer from his Lady anytime soon, Adrien took mercy on her poor abused ovaries. He removed his pants in one quick push, stepping out of the scarlet material as it pooled around his ankles, and if he was at all scandalized by the ways Marinette’s eyes immediately zeroed in on his thinly-clad bulge with a split-second reaction time the military would clamor to get their hands on, he gave no indication. He simply kicked his discarded pants away, struck one last leisurely pose, and crawled right back into bed.


End file.
